“Pop got arrested. He tried to kill someone.” That’s how Lil Ruby started the phone call. She didn’t ease into it. There were no preliminary pleasantries like “Hello, how are you doing.” Or maybe even “How’s Molly and little Eggbert.” Kid’s name is Edward, not Eggbert. But, that’s just how she is. Lil Ruby is Jack’s older sister and she doesn’t give a rip about Jack and Jack is just fine with keeping it that way. Lil Ruby only called every couple years and it was always bad news or just to rub Jack’s nose in how good it’s going for Tex, her and the twins. Molly tried to warn Jack as she handed the phone to him. Holding the phone to her stomach to muffle her voice, she mouthed as she whispered, “It’s your sister.” Lil Ruby was always a couple ingredients short of a complete recipe, and she would say the same or worse about Jack. “Pop got arrested,” Lil Ruby repeated. “And, what are you going to do about it?” “Hello to you too, Sis. And, hello to that hubby Tex and the girls,” was all that Jack could say before Lil Ruby cut him off. “It’s Martin, you know that, not Tex. You insist on saying things like that, hurtful things. Pop’s arrest couldn’t come at a worse time. The twins, Becca and Bella, they’re 13. This is a big year for them. They’ve been taking Cotillion lessons for two years. Learning about dresses, etiquette, manners, speech lessons, hair, nails, flowers, learning to dance, more dresses. This is the year they will be empowered as women. Their debutante balls are in May. That’s just 2 months away and now this. We were hoping Pop could come to his granddaughter’s ball. Instead, Pop is arrested, orange jumpsuit and the whole thing. What I want to know, is what are you going to do about it. You have to handle this,” Lil Ruby said. Jack wanted to say, “what the hell is this with Cotillion”, but he didn’t say it. That would just start an argument. Even though he never leaned away from an argument especially with Lil Ruby, there was no upside in arguing with Lil Ruby about this. She’d just tell him he’s lazy, Tex is making boat loads of money in wireless. And, what was Jack doing, that business of his, selling kayaks. There just can’t be much money in that. Yes, Jack had been misinformed about the kayak business, but everybody makes mistakes. Jack thought it would be exciting, it wasn’t. He’d just stands there listening to customers, pretending to be interested as they go on and on about the morning mist over the water and getting in touch with nature. Blaah, blaah, when all Jack wanted to say to them was “Just go ahead and buy the gear already, shut up and get out of my store.” But, Jack didn’t say that either, no upside. Smile and look interested. Lil Ruby grew up in the same house that Jack did in Pottstown Pennsylvania. There was no cotillion, there were no debutante balls. Lil Ruby almost didn’t graduate from high school, telling Mom and even Pop to f-off or f-this or go f-yourselves. Back then Lil Ruby still spoke with her god-given Philly accent, like Jack, like everybody in Pottstown, except the old Germans and there aren’t many of those still around any more. Now she’s got this southern accent. Its “yall this” and “yall that” instead of “you guys.” Like she could fool anybody. But, Jack always weighed the upside, and there was no upside in arguing with her. If there’s no upside, then you zip it. “Pop’s in jail. He called me. He was all worked up, screaming into the phone. He always was a hothead. Finally caught up to him. Shouting about a worthless public defender assigned to him. Some guy named, Mitchell, Mitch something. Pop called him a little shit.” “Little shit, that part sounds like Pop. But, they arrested our dad, Tom Ruby. What’s he, like 81, 82? They arrested a Korean War veteran. Things must be slow for the Pottstown police.” “Pop is more wacker doodle than usual the past couple years since Mom died. I think he’s gone fundamentalist something or other, Martin calls it fundie. Pop goes on about redemption and forgiveness for his sins. I don’t think he’s all there. What are you going to do about this, Jack?” Lil Ruby said. Jack just couldn’t see the point in all that fundamentalist fundie stuff. Like, what’s the upside? What’s the end game to going that way. With your pecker tucked away and strapped down in place, that’s the only version of fundie that Jack knew about. Anyway, what’s the point in living or even dying like that when your junk should be out there roaming free without restrictions or additives. Though Jack was not above an occasional dose of those blue pills to add a little graphite to the pencil. You can have your standards but if something works, it works. Pops was always this angry grumpy guy and Jack could see him digging a bunker in the yard and stocking it with guns and ammo. Or he could see Pop as one of those angry old guys that young mothers see and then instinctively pull their kids closer to their skirts. But going fundie? Jack just couldn’t see the old guy going that direction, no matter what Lil Ruby told him. “You keep asking me what I’m going to do. But I live in Seattle and I am 3,000 miles away from Pop and Pottstown, and you live in Richmond and you are just 200 miles away. Why don’t you and Tex handle it? Just write a check or something like that.” “Sometimes I can’t believe you are my brother. You are so insensitive. Martin is very busy providing a very good living for the girls and me, a lot better than Pop did for us or you’re doing for Molly and Eggbert. I’m lucky to have him. The girls and I are completely swamped preparing for Cotillion. There is so much to do. The twins are not like you’re Eggbert.” “Edward, not Eggbert,” Jack said as he corrected her again. “Whatever. He just sits there playing video games all day. I bet he still wears all that dark, goth clothing, and paints his fingernails black. That’s fine for Eggbert but my twins are planning their future, they are becoming empowered young women. Not like Mom, the way she put up with Pop, I don’t know why she stayed. My twins will be prepared to conquer the world, poised and in control. What’s Eggbert up to?” Lil Ruby said. Jack wanted to say “just a phase” and tell Lil Ruby that she was wrong about Edward but he didn’t say it. That would just start another episode of her-life-is-great-your-life-sucks and he has seen that show before. There was no upside to that for Jack. Jack wished that Molly had not included all those details about Edward or the picture in their Christmas letter. Worse still, Edward had started kayaking. Edward was 13 and the same age as Lil Ruby’s twins. But, Edward was a big one. Even Jack had to admit that Edward was rotund. The kayak sat low in the water when Edward was on board, after Edward squeezed and scooched into the kayak cockpit opening. Jack could see Edward struggling to stretch and snap the water skirt around his Saturnal orbiting mid-section. And, Jack’s neck and jaw tightened up involuntarily when he thought of Edward with black eye liner and black painted finger nails sitting in the kayak in the morning mist, communing with nature like the rest of his customers. Jack loved his son, but he hoped this was just a phase for Edward. “Lil Ruby. I don’t know if you recall but I have a business to run here. I just can’t take off. I’ve got some big irons in the fire, big deals happening right now,” Jack said. “Pfff. That little thing. Kayaks? You’re kidding. I thought yall’s business was way down with the recession. Yall were on the verge of losing the house,” Lil Ruby said. Jack realized these must be more morsels of information from the Christmas letter. Jack wished now that he actually read the letter when Molly gave it him before she sent it out. Next year, NO CHRISTMAS LETTER. Jack would tell Molly when he got off the phone. “Ruby, you seem to forget that Pop hates me. He hasn’t talked to me since Mom died,” Jack said. “That’s what I thought to. You hit him up for a loan to that failing business of yours,” Lil Ruby said. “It all started long before the loan. It started at birth when Pop named me Jack Ruby. Nobody names their kid after the guy who killed the guy who killed JFK. And that was just the beginning of Pop’s war on Jack,” Jack said. “So he gave you a weird name. Get over it. You’re always so dramatic. Pop is a hothead. Just the same, Pop asked for you. Said he signed a bunch of papers giving you a power of attorney, over financial stuff, medical stuff, sounded like over everything to me. Well Pop doesn’t have that much, maybe the house and a little cash in the bank. But, he doesn’t hate you. Even said you get $3,000 a month to do it, but you have to actually be there, in Pottstown, to collect,” Lil Ruby said. “I don’t trust the old guy. I’m not flying all the way back East just to get jerked around again,” Jack said. “This little talk with you is taking much longer than I wanted. Look, I have to get back to the twins. The Cotillion planning group is meeting this afternoon and the twins and I are going to a fitting for their dresses. I just can’t be bothered with you and your problems. You have to take care of this thing with Pop,” Lil Ruby said. “Afraid not, Sis,” Jack said. “Jack, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you left me no choice. Does Molly know about that Snatch-It-Mart girl? Personally, I would be humiliated by all this, but I never know about you. She didn’t mention her in your Christmas letter,” Lil Ruby said. “What are you talking about?” Jack said. That whole thing in the Snatch-It-Mart convenience store, not one of Jack’s finest moments. Sometimes, better living through negotiation doesn’t work out so well. “Denial. That’s cute coming from you. Molly would probably find it interesting to find out about a video on a website which prominently features you, Jack my brother. Just searched for my brother and there you were. Disgusting video, truly disgusting. I didn’t think that there was that much space in the back of a milk and beer fridge in a convenience store. I’m guessing that Molly has not seen it. I’ve got the whole movie saved on those little thumb drive thingies, convenient for mailing,” Lil Ruby said. “Looks like I’m going to Pottstown. Hated the place when we were growing up. But anything for dear old dad,” Jack said. Jack hated the long plane trip, the rental cars, the drive to Pottstown. When Jack got to Pottstown he decided to stop by the old house first before going to see Pop in the orange jump suit in the Pottstown city jail. It was the same house that he and Lil Ruby grew up in. Pop probably still kept a key in the same spot under the steps in the back. Pottstown hadn’t changed since he left over 20 years ago, except that the town has continued to decay even though Jack would not have thought that any further decay was even possible. Maybe the Old Guy left some cash around the house. Just small amounts. Pop used to do that years ago. Just a little cash infusion to assist Jack in his fiduciary responsibilities. Just enough to cover some pass-through items, cover expenses. When Jack drove up to the house he could not believe what he saw. The entire front yard of the house and the whole driveway which separated the house from the Allen place next door was covered in stacks and piles of trash and debris. Six to eight feet high. A system of walkways, shoulder-width walkways, cut into the piles of debris like narrow canyons. The debris was more than a pile of trash, it was a collection, a catalogue of trash and debris eight feet high over the front yard and driveway. Pottstown city jail was one of those old Eastern Pennsylvania gray stone buildings looking like a Dickens workhouse with a coating of 100 years of soot. Jacked liked to think that the soot was coal dust but he knew better. Pop walked up to him, standing on the other side of the bars of the holding cell, a pathetic old guy in his orange jump suit, with a big zipper down the middle, a pecker pincher for sure if the old guy was forgetful on the down zip. Jack thought about starting with a “Hello, how you doing.” Since he hadn’t talked to the old guy in years and it still stuck with Jack the way Lil Ruby started right in on him the other day. But “hello” just seemed silly under the circumstances. “I went by the old house, Pop, before coming here. I couldn’t even get out of the car. I like what you’ve done with the place. You going for that post-apocalyptic thing there. Or are you auditioning for a reality TV show” Jack said. “Jack Ruby, you always were a smart-ass punk. Promise me you won’t touch any of my stuff there. It might look like a mess to you. But, every single thing there has been carefully placed,” Pop said. The old guy always referred to his son by his full name, Jack Ruby, just to twist the knife a little more in his son, Jack thought. “Pop, you’re arrested for trying to kill somebody. Let’s start there,” Jack said. Pop tapped his index finger to his head. “It’s all catalogued up here, all my stuff. Swear to me you won’t move anything. That’s years of work you’re looking at. Years.” “Hold that thought on the crap-piles, Pop. You haven’t talked to me in like forever, then you try to kill somebody and its me, only Jack Ruby can help you,” Jack said. “The charges are nothing,” Pop said. “Right, attempted murder is nothing,” Jack said. “You remember I’m the one with the GED, cause I couldn’t finish high school.” “Even that dumb-ass lawyer Mitch thinks the charges are nothing,” Pop said. “You’re attorney is a dumb-ass?” “Yeah, he’s got this beard, short-trimmed up thing on his face. He looks like Abe Lincoln or Freud in their 30s. Mitch is big about saying “accused” this and “alleged” that. He’s got this pointy chin and he is always pointing that bearded chin right at you. All he needs is a pipe and tweed jacket with elbow pads. Just a little shit,” Pop said. “What’s Mitch say?” Jack asked. “It’s all a big misunderstanding. I see somebody in the backyard at night. I think the guy is stealing my stuff. So I chase a burglar. That’s it. Nothing to it,” Pop said. “You left out all the details Pop. Like, how you had a gun and you shot 6 times at the guy. Like, how he wasn’t even in your yard, he was in the Allen’s yard, next door. And, he wasn’t breaking in,” Jack said. “Didn’t hit nobody. My eyes are so bad with the cataracts anymore, everything is a blur,” Pop said. “Not exactly, Pop. You nicked him in the leg. You were lucky, only 2 stitches. You don’t remember the blood all over you, all over him, everywhere. The pictures of you and the squad car look like a bloodbath. Scared the crap out of him. You coulda killed himk, Pop,” Jack said. “But I didn’t hurt nobody. No harm no foul,” Pop said. “They did a psychological evaluation on you. You told police that your trash piles were talking to you,” Jack said. “You are an old hothead, Pop. Mom always knew what to do with you how to calm you down. But, she’s gone now.” “Jack Ruby, that’s the thing. You have to help me. You’re mother’s not gone, not yet,” Pop said from the other side of the holding cell bars. Pop hung his head down, chin resting onto his chest and resting on the big pecker-pincher zipper of his orange jump suit. When Jack met Mitch, the Public Defender, he wanted to be serious, he tried to be serious. Jack started off that way with him, but he must have been smiling too much for the circumstances. “Mr. Jack Ruby, is there something humorous in this situation?” Mitch asked twice and Jack just told him “No” since there was no upside in telling Mitch the truth since he would just get bent out of shape. Pop was right, though. Mitch looked like Abe Lincoln or Freud. And, he kept sticking that pointy bearded chin out as he spoke just for emphasis. But Mitch was helpful. And, working with Mitch, Jack managed to get Pop released on bail and into Jack’s custody. Jack was the guardian ad litem, that’s what Mitch called it. Jack liked the sound of that. In the car ride from the jail back to the house on Oak Street they were both silent, not a word between the two of them. They just watched as the old familiar Pottstown streets clicked by, many of the shops were closed now. Jack parked the rental car on the street in front of the house since the debris and trash, Pop’s debris piles, filled the driveway. Then, Jack turned to Pop and asked him, “Tell me about all this trash you collected.” Pop did not respond. Pop got out of the car and walked into one of the footpaths which cut into the piles of debris and trash on the driveway. Jack followed a few steps behind. Jack caught up to Pop in one of the narrow shoulder-width canyon walkways which were cut into the trash and debris which was piled 8 feet high above them. The sides of the canyon looked as if they might collapse onto them at any time. The debris piles oozed out in pieces from the side of the pathways. The debris piles looked like a disorganized collection of random trash teetering on collapse. There was a washing machine with boxes piled on top, with magazines piled on top and then empty flower pots, there were blankets and pillows out in the weather, a bicycle helmet, then more boxes and papers. On-and-on with trash and debris covering the entire yard and driveway. Jack was nervous walking or even standing in the debris canyon. When he caught up to Pop he saw him bending down and reaching into a box at the bottom of the stack, resting on the concrete of the driveway. Pop opened the box from the side so as not to topple the items which were piled on top. Jack feared that this simple retrieval could bring the whole mass of trash down on top of both of them. Pop reached in and pulled a small piece of cardboard. Pop’s hands were purposeful and knew exactly what they were searching for. Pop stood up and wiggled the small piece of cardboard in front of Jack’s face. It was a printed card, there was a picture on it. “Jack Ruby, these piles don’t mean anything to you. It’s all just my penance for people I treated like trash like your Mom, you and Ruby,” Pop said as he held the cardboard in front of Jack’s face. “Don’t hug me , Pop. That would be creepy in the middle of all this trash,” Jack said. “This is all stuff that has been thrown away. I threw too many people away,” Pop said, continuing to hold the cardboard in front of Jack’s face. “I couldn’t remember her voice anymore. She was still alive as long as I could remember her voice, but then I couldn’t hear her anymore,” Pop said. Jack took the small piece of cardboard from Pop’s hand. It was a memoriam card. They buried Mom in Ephrata on a cold, crisp Autumn day. Mom always liked to visit Ephrata with the old Cloister. Most of the leaves were off the trees and had fallen and tossed and swirled on the ground in the wind. On that Autumn day when Jack drove from the burial ceremony at the grave site hundreds of leaves swirled around the car and in the air as Jack accelerated the car. In the mass of hundreds of leaves that swirled around the car there was one crisp, dried Oak Leaf which defied gravity and danced there in front of the windshield, right in Jack’s field of view, and remained there even as the car accelerated. At first he did not notice this one brown Oak Leaf motionless among the many which swirled all over the ground and around the car. But then Jack took notice of this one Oak Leaf which stayed in front of him in the middle of the windshield even as he accelerated the car. This one Oak Leaf was calling him, demanding that Jack pay attention to it, to listen to it, to see that it was not flying away like all the other leaves. Then, once Jack realized that this one leaf demanded his attention, the Oak Leaf seemed to twist slowly back and forth like a hand slowly moving in the air. The gesture seemed to be releasing Jack, or beckoning him. Then Jack left that Autumn day and returned to the present. And, Jack watched as Pop turned and walked down the pathway further into the debris pile. Jack realized that it takes two people to release an embrace. He took his phone out of his pocket. Jack wondered what Molly was doing, how Edward was doing. Jack would call them. He could see the upside now.